


Through A Lens

by itsallAvengers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coulourblind Steve Rogers, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Tony Stark, Pining Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers is Tiny, Tony Stark Has A Heart, thats basically it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 10:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10660221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/pseuds/itsallAvengers
Summary: "Okay- so this is the first option- I've got to go to this huge family meal in a few weeks, and so I'm looking for a shirt that just screams 'I am the family disappointment', you know? Does the bright pink work, do you think?"Steve shrugged. "Uhh, well, I'd say pink probably would? It's hard to say, I mean, I'm colour-blind, maybe you need Natasha's input. Hell, Clint's always good with 'family disappointment' fashion, shall I grab him-""Wait," Tony cut him off, face completely blank and shirt half way off his body. "You're... you're fucking with me, right?""Huh? I mean, Clint's family is fucked up on a normal day, so it's not really-""No, not that, the other thing. The colour-blind thing," Tony said, stepping out of the changing room with his shirt still hanging around his neck in order to grab Steve's arms. "Please, please God tell me that I haven't spent the last two years of my life assuming you could see colour. Please."





	Through A Lens

**Author's Note:**

> go bug me on my tumblr @itsallavengers :)

Steve Rogers did not know what to make of Tony Stark.

 

His whole.. _.existence,_ was just damn confusing. For starters- the boy was so incredibly clever, Steve was somewhat convinced he was an alien. He spoke like one sometimes, anyway; some of the words he said sounded far too long to be human. 

And then the fact that he was rich. But not just rich, like, _super-massive-loaded_ rich. And Steve didn't really give a shit about that, it was irrelevant- but he'd never been able to work out why someone that privileged had ever chosen to go to a mainstream college, and live in a shitty apartment, and hang out with...well, poor college losers like himself, when he could have been with people so much better. Hell; Steve had only met the guy because he'd walked up to Justin Hammer and his stupid goons while they were beating Steve up on the first day and, rather than join in and establish himself into their ranks, just punched the guy square in the nose.

They'd both ended up getting beaten, because Steve was tiny and, well, Tony wasn't all that buff either and it had been 5 against two. Tony hadn't even seemed that bothered at the end of it. He'd just wiped the blood off his mouth and then grinned, before asking if Steve wanted to go get burgers.

Steve had told him Tony probably needed hospital. Tony had replied with a shrug and "I need the hospital a lot. But burgers are nearer. And nicer. Come on."

So yeah- Tony Stark didn't care much for the elites in their college. Which made no sense, because really, he could do so much better if he was with them- being challenged by them, establishing business relations with them.  
And yet he chose to stay. 

 

Of course, one of the most baffling things about Tony Stark was his character. They'd been best friends for over two years now, and Steve could still firmly say that Tony was pretty much a mystery. Sure, _comparatively_ , he probably knew him better than anyone else on campus, but he was still an anomaly.

Tony was just so... _nice_. And kind. And yet he hid it so adamantly, like it was a horrible curse. He was a walking contradiction- saying one thing and then acting entirely differently. Steve was sure if he'd met Tony under any other circumstances, he'd have immediately decided he hated him. It was an easy thing to do.

 

It was also very, _very_ easy to fall in love with him, too.

 

Steve had realised and accepted a long time ago, that his feelings for Tony weren't platonic. A _friend_ wouldn't want to run their hands through his morning bed-head and kiss his nose when it scrunched up in confusion. A _friend_ didn't have to physically tear their eyes away whenever he took off his shirt. A _friend_ would be able to watch Tony smile and not feel their heart skip a few beats.

Maybe that was just the Arrhythmia. But Steve was pretty sure it was love, too.

 

And he'd had to live with that. For two years. Because the effect Tony had on him had been pretty instantaneous. One moment, he'd been smiling across the table while Tony attempted to eat a huge burger with a split lip he'd received from trying to defend Steve, and the next-

Steve was gone.

Hell- he didn't even _care._ He said it like it was some sort of curse, but honestly, Steve _wanted_ to be in love with him. Even if the feeling didn't run both ways, it didn't matter. Tony needed love. Tony had a shitty homelife, people had mistreated him his whole life and Steve never wanted to see him go through that again. Never wanted him to be alone, or feel like no-one cared. 

 

So he loved Tony, quietly, by firmly. It was painful and it was wrecking and completely, utterly worth it to see Tony smile.

 

Tony Stark, the world's biggest mystery. Steve was absolutely fine with loving someone like him.

 

**

 

"Rogers, get your ass over here and help me decide on what colour suits me best," Tony called out from across the store, and Steve turned his head, watching in bemusement as Tony lugged about twenty different items of clothing into the changing room.

 

"I'm helping Natasha," he called back, and the redhead waved and stuck a finger up at Tony in triumph.

"Romanov is perfectly capable of making her own fashion choices."

"And you aren't?"

"Absolutely not. Immediate assistance, please, or I'm going to be crushed under the weight of all this leather."

"Oh, just go- if only to stop him complaining," Natasha said, giving him a gentle shove, "I'll just call another minion. Bucky's around here somewhere, and he loves me, so he'll probably be more of an ego-booster than you anyway."

"You're gonna drive him crazy with lust one day, you know," Steve laughed, and Natasha just shrugged and nodded.

"What can I say, I'm desirable."

"No, you just scare people into loving you!" Tony called out again from the other side of the room.

Steve turned, just in time to watch as Tony suddenly careered to the left and disappeared into a clothing rack. A few seconds later, he re-emerged, hair a wild mess as his head stuck up from out of the various t-shirts he was swamped in. 

"Why do we let you leave the house again?" Steve said, walking up to Tony and offering a hand.

Tony took it, jumping to his feet and picking up all his many clothes from the floor. "Because your life is boring and meaningless without me to light it up?"

 _Yes_ "Stark, I could replace you in a day."

Tony just laughed, and kissed him on the top of his head before bounding into the changing room, not bothering to close the curtain as he shucked off his shirt. "love you too, babe."

From across the room, he heard Bucky's obnoxiously loud laughing mixed in with Natasha's dainty one, and he turned around, watching them as they raised their eyebrows and giggled at him. 

 _shut the fuck up,_ he mouthed, trying to cool down the blush that they'd somehow managed to spot from across the room and turning away from them. However, the new direction he faced only made the blush worse, thanks to a still-shirtless Tony, so he jerked around again, refusing to look his stupid friends in the eyes and concentrating very hard on something out of the window.

"Okay- so this is the first option- I've got to go to this huge family meal in a few weeks, and so I'm looking for a shirt that just screams 'I am the family disappointment', you know? Does the bright pink work, do you think?"

Steve shrugged. "Uhh, well, I'd say pink probably would? It's hard to say, I mean, I'm colour-blind, maybe you need Natasha's input. Hell, Clint's always good with 'family disappointment' fashion, shall I grab him-"

"Wait," Tony cut him off, face completely blank and shirt half way off his body. "You're... you're fucking with me, right?"

"Huh? I mean, Clint's family is fucked up on a normal day, so it's not really-"

"No, not that, the other thing. The colour-blind thing," Tony said, stepping out of the changing room with his shirt still hanging around his neck in order to grab Steve's arms. "Please, please God tell me that I haven't spent the last two years of my life assuming you could see colour. Please."

Steve stumbled over the words, rather too focused on trying not to Stare at Tony's exposed body to form words. "Um, I- well- uhhhh, yes? You have? Sorry, I just didn't think it was...relevant?"

Tony looked horrified at that. _"Relevant?_ Steve, how colour-blind _are you?"_

Steve looked away, a little embarrassed now. "Entirely."

Tony gasped. Steve tensed up, chin held high in defiance, because he refused to be ashamed of who he was, not even if it was Tony who was the one that was-

"Hey, enough of that, Rogers," Tony interrupted, face smoothing over as he dropped his hand until it was circling Steve's bony wrist. "I didn't mean it like that, come on, I'm just horrified that I didn't fucking notice you _haven't ever been able to see colour before_ , that's all."

Steve shrugged. Tony's hand was warm and felt lovely against his skin. "Never came up, i guess. Bucky knew. He helps me out when I need it. But yeah, the clothes thing? Not much help."

Tony paused, and then opened his mouth like he wanted to pursue it. But Steve gave him a look, and that was enough for Tony to realise it would be a bad move, because he quickly shut his mouth again, choosing to go with a smile instead as he turned back into the changing room. "Okay- at least tell me if it looks slutty, then. Maybe I should just go full-out, wear a dress, I bet Natasha would love to get me all dolled up, and I know I look amazing in eyeliner-"

Steve smiled, and let Tony wash over him.

His colour blindness was forgotten,

 

**

 

Until it wasn't

 

**

 

"Steve, let's go look at art. You like art, right? I want to see some art, I'm in an art mood, come on-"

Steve groaned, and let his head fall against the table. "If you say 'art' one more time I'm going to strangle you with your own arm."

"That's mean."

"It's also true."

Tony whined, slumping against Steve's hunched back. "I'm borredddd, please, Steve, let's just go to the MoMA or something, it's great there-"

Steve cracked an eye open to glare suspiciously. "Tony, you _hate_ art. You said art was like people's hand-vomit."

Tony rolled his eyes. "That was _one_ time, and I was drunk. Anyway, are you seriously going to try and dissuade me from expanding my horizons? I thought I was the one who needed to get out more?"

Steve groaned again, pushing himself up and watching in satisfaction as Tony rolled off his back with a yelp. "Yes, but it's 11am and I'm hungover as fuck, and feeling particularly hateful toward you because you are not. Damn your fucking high tolerance."

Tony just laughed, jumping up to his feet and grabbing Steve's hands. They were bony and cold, thanks to his bad circulation, but just the feel of Tony's fingers against his made them light up.  
It was amazing what Tony could do to him, with just a few simple touches.

Made him wonder what he could possibly be capable of if his hands went further.

 

"I will do whatever you want, for however long you want me to do it, if you just indulge me this once," Tony stated, and, okay, that particular thought was enough to perk Steve up, because _holy shit_ hearing those words from Tony's mouth was... very intriguing, to say the least.

Steve looked up, slowly, and Tony just smiled, soft and happy and relaxed.

And damn him- Steve could never say no to that smile.

 

"God, _fine,_ let's go to a fucking art gallery then, Jesus," he grunted, letting his head fall against Tony's stomach and closing his eyes for a few seconds while Tony cheered and bent down to kiss the top of his head again.

He was lucky he got to hide his blush in Tony's stomach this time.

 

**

 

It was a Wednesday morning, so luckily the queue to get in was relatively small. Tony chatted and moved the whole time, and Steve just allowed himself the guilty pleasure of watching- watching the movements of his fingers against the railing or the way his thick dark hair blew in the wind. His mouth moved a hundred miles a minute, and all he needed was a few words of encouragement from Steve before he was off again, talking excitedly about his latest project.

Steve treasured the moments when he got to watch Tony talk about the things he loved. It was absolutely adorable to see him in action, although it had taken a while for them to get there. At the start, Tony would only go for ten seconds or so before apparently convincing himself that he was boring everyone and shutting up with a muted apology.

If Steve ever met the assholes responsible for making him do that, he was going to make them pay, illness and weakness be damned.

 

"Come on, come on," Tony urged, grabbing his hand and tugging them along excitedly. Steve laughed and followed behind, happy to just watch Tony in his little excited bubble as he whizzed through the reception and corridors. It was honestly addictive, seeing him like that. Maybe Steve's judgement was skewed, but he was just... so beautiful when he was happy. He could outshine a room even when he was looking grim, but now- 

There wasn't a thing on Earth that could compete.

 

"Tony, what the hell's gotten into you, why are you suddenly so passionate about art?" Steve asked incredulously, as Tony pulled them into one of the large rooms. He caught a Monet out of the corner of his eye, and turned around to have a look at it. He'd always loved his work.

Tony stopped, finally slowing down and backtracking, until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve again. "Like it?" he said quietly, eyes scanning the painting curiously.

Steve nodded. "You know, there are over 250 different paintings in this series. No one even liked them, at first. Took twenty years after he died before people finally started understanding the depth to it, the abstract expressionism in his paintings. It's... it's a brilliant example of it, really- I just wish I could see all 250 of them."

"Mmm," Tony agreed absently, and Steve turned for a moment to glance at him, and noticed that Tony was too busy looking at him to even concentrate on the beautiful art in front of them.

"Eyes front, soldier, we're admiring the artwork," Steve told him, smiling.

"Right. Yep. Beautiful...arty, things. Cool." Tony said, and Steve could see he hadn't moved even slightly. "Do you want to know what would make these paintings even better?"

Steve shot him the side-eye. "You're not going to 'improve' these, Tony, you'll be arrested and attacked by thousands of angry art-lovers."

"No, not the actual paintings," Tony rolled his eyes, "just... your view of them?"

Steve paused, curious now. "Go on."

Tony beamed, and then pulled out a pair of glasses from his pocket. "Put them on."

Steve took them, eyes narrow and suspicious. "Tony, if these make me start hallucinating or something, I'm never coming out with you again."

Tony was practically vibrating now, jumping up and down on his toes as he shook Steve's arm. "Oh my God, Steve, just try them please, you're killing me here."

Steve shot him one last look, before sliding the glasses on to his nose.

 

 

 

 

"oh my God."

 

 

 

 

Colour exploded in his vision. Steve was... suddenly there were _oranges_ , and reds, and pinks and greens and violets and browns and everything that everyone had always spoken about but Steve had never known.

His jumper was blue. A beautiful, amazing, deep navy blue. The Monet paintings were dark green, splattered with pink lilies. 

 

The world was in colour.

 

He felt his breath refuse to come up from his throat, and Tony was laughing beside him, hand gripping Steve's as he saw the world in the same way as everyone else did for the first time in his whole life, and Steve realised something that hit him like an electric shock.

He was going to be able to see Tony.

 

 

 

"Oh my _GOD,"_

 

 

 

He refused to blink. He never ever wanted to stop seeing this. Everything... it was _warm_ and _alive_ and _amazing,_ and he turned suddenly, jerking to look at Tony, who's smile was pretty much running across the entirety of his face- Jesus, Steve had never even seen him that happy before and it wasn't even him who was finally seeing his world in colour for the first time.

 

He locked eyes with Tony. They were warm brown, shining like diamonds in sunlight, half covered by hair a shade darker as it fell down on to his beautiful tanned skin. His lips were red from the cold, and his eyelashes were dark black against the tired purple of his under-eye circles.

"I can... I can _see it_ , Tony. All of it, _holy shit,"_ he whispered, feeling his knees as they suddenly gave in and he fell into Tony's waiting arms, clutching his hands against the fabric on Tony's back like a lifeline.

Tony was still laughing, holding him upright and stroking a hand through Steve's hair. "Yeah, baby, you can. I'm glad they worked- I wondered about just buying a pair, but then I thought I might be able to make it better, so I just did a bit of research and bam! You can see in colour!"

Steve gasped, feeling the hot prick of tears against the back of his eyes, and before he knew it he was crying- big, ugly, conspicuous sobs into Tony's shoulder. People were almost certainly looking, and Steve wanted to look too, because he could fucking _see_ for the first time in his life, everything was completely overwhelming and he never wanted to close his eyes ever again- and yet here was, burying his head in Tony's shoulder while his stupid eyes filled with tears and made everything blurry anyway.

 

Tony was more beautiful than anything Steve could ever have imagined.

 

God, his _eyes._ His mouth. His smile, it was all clear. Steve hadn't known quite what he was missing out on until he finally saw it.

 

Tony had done this for him. Tony had given him this. Tony had let him see the world properly.

 

Steve gasped, fingers clutching fistfuls of Tony's shirt as he cried whilst also desperately trying to keep his eyes open at the same time. He was laughing too, a whole cocktail of overwhelming emotions that were completely engulfing him.

 

_He could see._

 

"I love you, I love you, I love you so much, holy- I love you," Steve whispered desperately, because Tony was there and Tony was holding him and Tony had designed glasses that he could see colour with and he couldn't possibly think of anything bad happening when he was this high.

Before he could even think about it, he'd lifted his head up and met with Tony's, lips crashing together desperately as he saw all those colours blur together when he got too close to them. Not that he cared much about the proximity, because he was kissing Tony and that took priority, really. His mouth was warm and slightly open thanks to the fact he'd been taken completely by surprise, and his lips were soft against Steve's own.

 

Tony gasped a little in surprise, and froze up. 

 

Steve suddenly crashed back to reality.

 

Oh, no.

_Oh, no._

 

"Sorry, oh my god, I'm sorry," Steve muttered, pulling away quickly and stumbling out of Tony's arms.

 

He'd... he'd just kissed Tony. Tony had done this, this senselessly, _amazingly_ nice thing for Steve, and he'd- he'd just thrown himself at him, and ruined the moment completely. Not to mention the friendship that was probably now in danger because of steve's utterly stupid impulses, for _fuck's sake_ , why the fuck had he thought that would be a good idea-

 

"Hey, no, Steve-"

 

Steve didn't hear the rest. He started running.

 

The world was still just as vibrant as it had been twenty seconds ago, and Steve was still crying, but the panic was welling up too; deep and tight in his lungs.  
He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up and he knew it, and in doing so he'd put his and Tony's friendship on the line, because _he was an idiot,_ he was a fucking idiot who thought that it had been a good idea to kiss Tony, _holy shit_ , what had he been thinking? Tony didn't want him like that- _no one_ wanted him like that, let alone someone as beautiful as Tony fucking Stark, and now he'd ruined _everything._

 

God. He couldn't breathe. And he didn't have his inhaler on him, either. 

 

The world was blurry from the tears, and he had to just run sideways until he hit a wall in the corridor before sliding down it, desperately attempting to catch his breath, even though he knew it was a futile effort. People were probably staring, and now Steve would be able to see the colour of their eyes as they judged, because _he'd kissed Tony and then run off with his glasses_ , holy fuck-

 

"Steve!"

 

He jerked his head up from where it was tucked between his knees, and saw Tony as he ran around the corner and spotted him, immediately breaking into a sprint when he saw Steve on the ground. In a few seconds, he was there, and as much as he was desperate to see the beautiful hazel again, he refused to look in Tony's eyes, instead choosing to stare at the dirty grey floor underneath him as he coughed up nothing and clutched weakly at Tony's arm.

"Whoah, baby, come on, deep breaths, you got this," Tony said quietly, and Steve heard him shuffling around in front of him, until suddenly there was a rattle and something was held just in front of his mouth.

 _Inhaler-_ he worked out, as he opened his mouth around it and felt as Tony pressed down, sucking in the vapour on autopilot.

"Come on, honey, just breathe slow," Tony whispered, thumb stroking across Steve's face as he slowly regained his breath and became aware of himself a little more.

 

Everything was too much. He could see colour and he could see Tony and Tony was so damn beautiful but he'd just kissed him and then ran away to have an asthma attack, and probably ruined one of the best friendships in his life in the process, so Steve had absolutely no idea how to feel, every emotion was currently tap-dancing in his brain.

 

Then Tony leaned in and kissed him, and suddenly Steve only knew one thing.

 

 

_Kiss back._

 

 

Shakily, a hand curled around the back of Tony's neck and felt the soft strands of hair there. Tony gasped again, but didn't stop, instead just delving a little deeper, letting his tongue slide across Steve's lip and his hands settle firmly on his waist.

It was brilliant and there were fireworks in the back of Steve's brain and he was completely and utterly lost as to what was happening, but he honestly didn't care. He'd take whatever the consequences were, he just wanted Tony's mouth to stay on his for as long as possible.

Unfortunately that wasn't long, because after a few seconds, Tony pulled away, an audible groan on his lips as he backed off. Steve took the opportunity to drink him in again, see all the new colours that had emerged, like the pink on the apples of his cheeks and the deeper red on his lips from where Steve had been a few seconds previously.

"First thing's first, I love you too," Tony said softly, fingers trailing up Steve's body until they landed in his hair and began carding softly through the blonde strands. "Secondly, I realise that I probably should have given you some warning before throwing this big thing at you. That was my fault, and I'm sorry. Thirdly, did I mention that I love you? Because I love you."

Steve looked at him blankly, and Tony's face fell a little, hands starting to pull away as he said, "also, impromptu fourth point- I am also only now realising that you were probably just going through shock and didn't actually mean any of that, oh wow, this isn't good, I'm sorry-"

Steve almost laughed. Luckily, he chose instead to kiss Tony again.

 _"Of course_ I'm in shock, I can finally see the damn love of my life, and apparently he's kissing me," Steve muttered against Tony's mouth.

Tony sighed in relief, and then laughed, hands coming up and wrapping around his waist. "So, I'm guessing it's a success then."

"I literally declared my love for your like six times and then attacked you with my mouth- yes, I'd say it was a fucking success."

"Please attack me with your mouth more often- I'll lure you in with more cool inventions."

Steve laughed, breaking away finally to let his head fall on Tony's shoulder. "You don't need to. I don't think I'm ever going to get over this one. Tony... the world is so... _colourful._ How do you- is this what you see every day?"

"Yeah, baby- you should see the sky. It's so blue, it'll blow your mind," Tony answered, the ridiculously big beam returning to his face as he kissed Steve's nose again.

At his suggestion, Steve's face lit up even further. "Oh my god, yes. Please, let's go, right now."

"You don't wanna look at all the paintings first?"

Steve shrugged. "I want to see the nature. Plus, I think security's been called on us for PDA."

Tony looked around, as if only just remembering that he was sat in the middle of a corridor with his hands dangerously near Steve's ass while everyone stared and moved around them. "You may have a point. Shall we blow this popsicle stand, then, and I can show you some of the most colourful things I can possibly think of?"

Steve grinned, wiping the tears from the corner of his eye and kissing Tony again, just because he could. "Yes. I love these, Tony. I love _you_. Thank you. Thank you so much," he whispered.

Tony jumped to his feet, pulling Steve up by the waist and clutching his hand. "Just wait until you see the world, baby. It's gonna be so amazing, so beautiful. Like, it's always _there_ , but sometimes you just have to stop and appreciate it, you know?"

Steve paused, eyes taking in the impossible beauty that was Tony Stark in full definition, high quality colour.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know."

 

**

 

Steve cried 15 times. It was one of the best days of his life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For Damien, my awesome friend who loves Tony as much as myself, and...idk you seemed like you were having a shit day yesterday. So I WROTE YOU A FIC. BECAUSE YOU'RE AWESOME AND DESERVE A FIC. 
> 
> (Always love to hear feedback from you guys, drop a comment if you enjoyed! :) )


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